Call to Arms
by royalstraight
Summary: A young Gear, following in the footsteps of his family, joins the COG to safeguard the remnants of humanity. This is his story. OC


Fourteen years.

Nobody thought we would make it this long.

The Pendulum Wars took a lot of people, and ruined many more, but the Locust are far more ruthless, bestial, and just plain scary than even the toughest soldier. Their gnashing teeth, their monster flash, their empty eyes, almost makes you pray that they pull down into their shadowy tunnels before you see them… almost.

But the bodies, that's the worst part of it all.

Before my family took up on Operation Lifeboat, I saw a lot of bodies from both sides. The Locust are always there, as plentiful as the rocks whose appearance they mimic; the humans, the people, always stand out. The blood washed a yard across in every direction; the limbs torn and shredded; their expression, if there's one left, one of pain and fear.

Sometimes I think that maybe, if I hadn't seen those bodies growing up, I wouldn't have wanted to be a Gear like my big brother and my dad.

I wouldn't have lied about my age.

I wouldn't be sitting in a King Raven chopper, a suit on my body, a Lancer in my hands, and two complete strangers sitting in front of me. Actually, that's one situation I am capable of rectifying.

"Hey," I called over the beat of helicopter blades, "Name's Jason."

The taller soldier, wearing a helmet, replied, "I'm Toby."

The thinner of the two, whose face I could see, answered, "Axel."

I extended a hand to Toby first, as he was sitting across from me, shook his, and repeated this time-honored process with Axel, who was placed precariously on the edge of the helicopter bay.

"How long you been in?" I asked both. I might as well get to know my team before the shooting started.

"Not long," Toby replied first, "This is my first op."

"Same here," Axel commented.

"Wow. Three FNG's," I observed, "Our boss is either gonna be really old or really young."

Axel just watched the ground flit by beneath the chopper. I looked over the ruins beneath us; they looked in better condition than the ones I had grown up in. Almost like humanity could just move back in...that is, if not for the unruly neighbors in the basement.

"Alright, boys," the pilot declared, "we're touching down in thirty seconds. Last check on your kit."

I ejected the clip from my Lancer, and eyed the rounds within: looked good. If there was anything I learned from my dad's war stories, it was that the enemy doesn't count on you making a mistake, but they don't miss it, and I wasn't about to get shot on my first day.

I powered the rifle back on, and caught my breath as the King Raven pulled down into a tight square. Five Gears sat in a circle, which I found to be insane: Locust snipers owned the cities, and sitting in the open on a clear day like that was asking to get your head blown apart.

Before the chopper even touched down, Axel dropped down to the cracked pavement. Toby followed him. I called a Thanks-And-Good-Luck to the pilot, and followed suit. Bits of gravel crunched beneath my boot, and I jogged into the lead of my teammates.

A gruff-looking man rose to greet us, Axel and Toby slid in on either side of me, and we all came to halt. Toby saluted, as we could now see the chevrons on the man's chest plate. He looked us each over quickly and instantly I knew that we were in for a freshie-grill.

He nodded to my helmeted comrade, and Toby brought his arm back down. "Why didn't you salute, soldier?" He directed his question to Axel, who sullenly replied, "I don't care."

"Why did you salute?" Toby responded, "All officers are to be saluted." The sergeant squinted his eyes, but said nothing.

"And you didn't salute because?" This iteration of the question was directed at me.

I gave him the response drilled into me by a pro-military life.

"Military custom is that officer's are never to be saluted in hostile conditions, whether or not in actual combat."

His face set as stone, I managed to catch a flicker of surprise in who-I-assumed-to-be-my-CO's eyes.

"Where did you read that?" He investigated.

My face equally set, I answered, "Didn't."

"Never let 'em break you, Jason." That's what my dad said the last time we saw each other. "The COG's gonna try to grind you down, but don't you dare let 'em win."

Like father, like son.


End file.
